


Project: Lure

by LanceTheFuckerTucker



Category: Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Omega Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 10:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanceTheFuckerTucker/pseuds/LanceTheFuckerTucker
Summary: Broke and forced to choose between food and your suppressants, you enlist in a drug trial with the promise of $20,000 and a lifetime supply of them. But all is not as it seems and you're just the latest unwitting omega embroiled in Hydra's latest experiment - 'Project: Lure'.





	1. The Facility

You were young and you were broke. Resigned to working your fingers to the bone for goodness knows how many years in order to pay off your college debt, you didn’t think life could get anymore bleak. Until it did.

It was a Wednesday. The sun hung low in the sky as you made the commute on the bus from your office back to your apartment, consumed by the situation you found yourself in. This month, your pay check had left you with a gaping shortfall in your finances, leaving you confronted with the choice between food and your suppressants.

In most companies, unbonded omegas were well catered to, being offered leave when they went into heat. However, your particular workplace didn’t work that way. So you were forced to rely on your suppressants.

It took you twenty minutes to make your decision. From taking your seat on the bus, to stepping off at your stop. You chose your suppressants. You couldn’t afford to go into heat, living in an apartment block crawling with alphas and you couldn’t afford the hassle at work. It was easier that way.

It was completely dark as you walked the final block to your building. There, on a crisp white sign, fixed to a streetlight, was the thing that would change your life forever. It looked like a beacon of hope.

The next day, you found yourself in the waiting room, nervously twiddling your thumbs.

The facility was a half hour bus ride away from home, on the outskirts of the city, looking as one would expect of a medical institution. Pristine. It was the same on the inside, too, complete with the smell of disinfectant and staff clad in scrubs flitting from room to room with a sense of urgency. It gave you no cause for alarm. In fact, your mind was already thinking of ways you could spend the $20,000 coming your way once the study was over.

You allowed your mind to wander, surrounded by nine other females of similar age to you. All wearing identical gowns that tied in the back, issued by the facility. All omegas, too. You assumed they were in the same financial position as you.

The tall, dark haired and upright looking woman behind the reception desk quietly stepped out from her glass windowed office with a stack of clipboards. She quietly issued them to you and the other women.

It was a standard medical form. Name. Address. How long you planned on living there. Date of birth. Height. Weight. Existing medical conditions. And then it got specific, asking about previous mating history, when your last heat was… These questions always made you uncomfortable, but you answered honestly. You were about to begin testing a new brand of suppressant, after all. Or so you thought.

In turn, you all returned your documents to the receptionist and sat back down.

You had spent the night before watching documentaries on medical trials after calling the facility to register your interest. You knew the drill; you would all be led into a ward together and given either the drug or a placebo. Over the next week the doctors would monitor you all. And then you would get the golden pay check come next Thursday. Bye bye financial woes.

It concerned you when you were led away from the waiting area, one by one, and placed in individual rooms.

Your room was small and lined with sterile tiles and a linoleum floor. You could lay on the floor and your height would probably fit the length of it. There were no windows. Just glaring artificial light coming from the bulbs in the ceiling. On one side of your room (actually, it was more akin to a cell than a room, there was nothing homely about the space you found yourself occupying) was a simply made bed, with green, hospital issued sheets. Next to it stood a nightstand with a jug of water and a stack of plastic cups, along with a bell. On the other side of the room was a large mirrored panel that spanned the length of the space. You assumed it was one way glass to monitor your response to the drug.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, did you hear me?” the receptionist said, snapping you out of contemplation.

You nodded uneasily, “yeah.”

“Just wait on the bed and the doctor will be with you shortly,” she reiterated, slipping out of the room. The door swished closed behind her.

You walked over to the bed and stowed your duffle bag underneath it. The springs in the frame creaked under your weight when you sat down, kicking off your shoes. The smell of disinfectant burned its way into your nostrils as you began to take deep breaths, cold and clean, doing nothing to quell the tiny spark of anxiety that began to spread inside you. You spent the next ten minutes sitting there, meditating in silence.

Then you heard the footsteps, shuffling down the hallway. The door swished open and a short, unassuming man entered. He was a beta.

You looked up at him, assuming he was the doctor and expecting him to introduce himself. He didn’t.

He held up a syringe. “Lie down please and I’ll administer this.” He was soft spoken, although you couldn’t place his accent.

You opened your mouth to make a sarcastic remark, but thought better of it. You complied.

“When I leave, you are to rest and ring the bell should you feel any adverse effects such as nausea, dizziness, or excessive sweating,” he said, gently taking your arm and injecting you with the drug. Then he left.

There was no nausea, dizziness, or excessive sweating over the week you spent at the facility. There was nothing to suggest that this was a hoax and not even the scent of the alpha on the other side of the glass panel made you uneasy. You collected your $20,000 check, your indefinite supply of suppressants, and went home. You were allowed to put this drug trial behind you. Or so you thought.

‘Project: Lure’ was an elaborate Hydra medical programme that used omegas as lures to bait difficult agents back into their clutches after missions.

It involved familiarising alphas with the scents of omegas before they were sent out on missions. The omegas had unwittingly been injected with drugs that strengthened their pheromones while in the facility, and been given drugs that accelerated their heat when they left. The alphas were then selected for missions based on where their familiarised omega from the facility lived, with the omega’s address serving as the extraction for the mission.

The process, however, served another, secondary purpose: it would aid Hydra in its goal of breeding the next generation of operatives.

The Winter Soldier had spent a week on the other side of that one way glass from you.


	2. A Brief Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Soldier is drawn to the scent of a familiar omega. He decides to put aside the self preservation he has honed under Hydra for decades. 'Project: Lure' is going as planned.

Familiarised with an omega from the first phase of ‘Project: Lure’, The Winter Soldier was selected for a mission right on its doorstep. He just didn’t know it yet.

For the first time since Hydra had captured him, The Winter Soldier had been sent on a mission without details of his extraction. He didn’t dare consider that this might be his ticket to freedom. Hydra were far too sadistic for that. Making his way through the dead of night, he caught the scent of an omega. It was familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it. It was alluring, strong but overcome with fear. But perhaps, most important of all, this omega was in heat.

He followed it to an apartment building a street over from his target. Uncaring of whether his tactical gear was smeared with the blood of his victim, he was presented with an opportunity he had been deprived of for decades at the hands of Hydra. But there was one small flaw. Standing at the bottom of the stair well, he was confronted with the stench of a hoard of competing alphas close by, he loaded another magazine into his gun and began the climb, guided by the flicker of the lamps that hung from each wall. His senses, acute.

Sure enough, as the scent of the omega neared, the alphas were there too, right outside her door. They were no match for him.

* * *

 

It only took you an hour in your apartment after leaving the facility to realise that something was wrong. It started with the flush in your cheeks and the uncomfortable warmth between your legs. You were going into heat. Fast. If you didn’t secure your apartment soon, every undesirable alpha in your building would be battering down your door to have you for himself. You slipped every bolt and chain across your door and shoved your sofa against it, hoping your measures would be enough. Then you retired to your bedroom with armfuls of food and bottles of water. 

This wasn’t your first rodeo; you could ride out a heat alone. This was different, though. You hadn’t been through a heat in over a year; there was no telling how bad this was going to be or how long it was going to last. That filled you with dread as you attempted to rationalise what was happening to you. 

There was also one niggling thought at the back of your mind: you couldn’t understand why you had gone into heat now, a week after starting these new suppressants. If anything, it would have happened in the facility.

It was only then that you realised that you hadn’t been subject to a drug trial, but something far more sinister. 

But you had no time to think about that now as your underwear quickly dampened and the need to be filled clouded your mind. You could smell the alphas living in the floors above and below you and it made you ache. The thought of them fucking you usually repulsed you, but right now, you would have done anything for their knots. You slipped off your slick drenched underwear and tried to get comfortable. Then you began trying to relieve some of the escalating frustration. 

You spent two hours doing so before exhaustion overcame you, forcing you to sleep.

* * *

 

When you woke up, the scent of alpha filled your senses. But it wasn’t just any alpha. You knew it instantly. It was the scent you had been exposed to in the facility. Your brain was split. Something was quite sinisterly wrong. But your need was back with a vengeance.

With every strained pant, it felt like your body was on fire; you could feel your walls frantically clenching around the one thing you craved, that you didn’t yet have, the emptiness making you whimper. Had you not been in the throes of desperation, you would have been paralysed by fear at the sight that greeted you when your eyes opened. 

In the chair beside your bed, next to your dresser, sat an intruder. Clad entirely in black, the only light that seemed to come from his tar black form were the reflections in his eyes and what appeared to be the silver sleeve of his jacket. Only it wasn’t his clothes. It was his arm. You were so busy trying to wrap your heat-addled brain around what was happening that you hadn’t noticed that his eyes were frantically shifting over your naked form taking in each and every detail. He was the alpha from the facility.

Instinctively, you rolled on to your stomach, cunt in the air, presenting yourself for this complete stranger. You had no time for caution anymore. “Please,” you gasped, feeling your slick trailing down your thighs.

The sight of this feverish and vulnerable omega stirred something within the alpha. As instinctively as you presented yourself for him, he shed the remainder of his clothes and wrapped himself around you from behind.

His frame completely dwarfed yours and the weight of him had you pinned. But the thing that caught your attention most was his cock pressing deliciously against your entrance. You whined at the promise of the knot you craved.

Your scent was intoxicating to him, awakening all of those primal urges that Hydra had tried so hard to suppress in all of their operatives. Who was he to pass up on such an alluring, unbonded omega? He relished the warmth of you for a moment, lost until you begged again.

“Please, alpha!” you yelped, bucking your hips against the intruder’s cock. 

His voice was low, barely a whisper, "are you sure this is what you want, little omega?"

"Yes, please!"

In one fell swoop, the alpha’s cock filled you to the hilt. It hurt, even with your slick, but you relished being filled. The alpha moved with purpose, repeatedly sinking into you. With every thrust your moans grew louder and your grip on the sweat saturated sheets tightened. In contrast, the alpha groaned quietly as you both gradually became tethered together. He was going to knot you, and you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Not that you wanted a choice. Unable to move, his knot wedged firmly inside you, you felt the alpha pump waves of his seed into you and suddenly the need you had felt before was sated. For a brief time.

You lay stuck together for what felt like no time at all, making the most of being in this stranger’s arms. His scent was thick on your skin, inoffensive and strangely comforting. The sun was beginning to peek through the blinds, cutting through the darkness in dewy yellow blades. Time had somehow run away from you both.

The alpha untangled himself from you, careful not to wake you up. The fragile, vulnerable omega in his embrace. He had to leave. In the alpha’s mind he couldn’t understand why you would want him around for the foreseeable, after all of the terrible things he had done over his lifetime. He couldn’t risk hurting you. Not after he remembered where he caught your scent. At the Hydra facility. It came back to him in hazy flashes when he saw you in the light. The week he had spent, nose pressed to the glass, tortured by your scent for days on end. There was no way someone like you could end up in a place like that of her own accord. He was reaching for his clothes when he heard you stir.

“Please, don’t go,” you mewled sleepily, reaching for his arm. Despite having regained a small amount of your energy and despite the pain in your loins having subsided, the fire that coursed through your muscles made it difficult to move. You knew you couldn’t risk going through the remainder of your heat alone. Even if this alpha was somehow connected to the facility. Even if he was connected to the botched drug trial.

The alpha turned to you. “I have to leave. If I don’t, the people who did this to you are going to hurt both of us.”

Your voice was small now as you began to plead. “You can’t leave; I need you. If these people are coming for me, you can protect me.”

“You don’t understand,” he began, shaking his head, “it’s not you they’re coming for. It’s me. I can’t afford to get distracted. Don’t you see they’re baiting me? I’m willing to bet they have people in this apartment block waiting to take me in as soon as your heat’s over. They don’t care about you. They'll hurt you to get to me.”

Using what little strength you had, you heaved yourself up. It was impossible to understand what you had gotten yourself into. But that was exactly what made the fear set in again. Tears began to pool at the corners of your eyes as a thousand questions began to fill your head threatening to completely drown any clarity in there. You were plunged into a state of panic under the gaze of the alpha. 

He would have been lying if he said that he felt nothing, watching you fall apart next to him. After all, you could give him everything he ever wanted if he could just outsmart his captors to keep you safe. But he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he lost and that was the problem. 

Still, as you began to frantically sob, your scent becoming stronger and clearly signalling your distress, he couldn’t help it. His instinct kicked in once more. His perfectly honed sense of self-preservation was put on the back burner. Instead, he silently made the decision to stay and care for you.

"Project: Lure" was going exactly as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part! Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!


	3. His Name Was James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Soldier stays with you throughout your heat, unable to bring himself to be parted from you.

“Shhh, it’s ok,” the alpha began quietly, taking you in his arms and scenting you again to calm your nerves. 

You were sobbing uncontrollably at the prospect of having to go through the remainder of you heat alone. A complete wreck in his arms; hair matted to your face, yesterday’s make up caked on your face and beads of sweat pooling across your skin. You nestled yourself tightly against his chest, fearing that if you let him go, he would leave you here alone. “Please, don’t leave.” 

Truth be told, he couldn’t leave you. Not just because of all that you could give him. A family. A mate. A life away from Hydra. But because of the threat he now posed to himself and everyone around him. He was a ticking bomb.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he sighed, kissing your head.

Your heat had propelled the alpha into his rut. And he was insatiable. You both were. Sleeping and fucking with the occasional break to shower or eat. One night, you spent every minute from dusk ’til dawn fucking. You lost count of how many times he knotted you; you couldn't walk properly and the pain was staggering after he did, but that didn't stop the pair of you from doing it again and again and again.

Neither of you had the mental clarity to think of the threat your new alpha had spoken of on the first night of your heat, much less talk about them, or the energy to ward them off should they come knocking at your door.

You hadn’t even found out your new alpha’s name. To you, he was simply ‘alpha.’ To him, you were ‘omega.’

Until day six. Just when your heat was beginning to subside, and his rut was proved to be short lived, and both of your bodies ached, utterly spent and fulfilled. Just when you started to think about whether this man would be in your future at all when this was over and all the unknown dangers coming your way. 

His name was James Buchanan Barnes. Or so the set of military dog tags he left on your nightstand said. 

He had torn himself away from you to take a cold shower when you made the discovery. When he returned, you were sitting up in bed, turning them in your hand and, with a clear mind, trying to piece together who he was. This was the first real thing you had found out about him. Right when you knew your obligations to each other had been fulfilled. To you it was bittersweet.

He stood in the doorway, unnoticed by you, watching you through tired, washed out, blue eyes.

He cleared his throat and you looked up.

“Sorry, I just… they were lying there on my nightstand. Always wondered what they said. Was always too distracted,” you stuttered.

He put his right hand in the air to stop your apology, smiling slightly as he did so.  “It’s ok. Figured a level headed talk was long overdue.”

“It’s a nice name, James,” you said, handing the tags back to him.

“And what do I call you?” he said, eyeing you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said quietly, sensing the shift in James’ demeanour. 

“I love that,” he said. His arms found their way around your waist, pulling you closer and scenting you again. 

You spared little time to enjoy this, though. The questions began to rise up again, threatening to spill from your mouth all at once. But if there was one thing you had learned about James after spending all of this time with him, it was that he was incredibly attentive. He anticipated everything, whether it was your need for food or water, or when you needed _him_ again. He just knew. He knew before you even had to ask. 

“Hydra,” he mumbled sleepily, rubbing circles over your shoulder blade. 

You stayed silent, shuddering at the name. In your mind, Hydra died when the Soviet Union crumbled. It was the kind of thing you learned about in history class. 

James continued and you listened intently: “I was captured. Brainwashed by Hydra and forced to work for them.  To tell you the truth, those dog tags are the last thing I have left of my old life, because they’ve wiped everything. They’re behind all of this. They locked me in that room next to you at the facility. I saw every little detail of you and fell in love with it. The way you sleep. The way you move. Your scent. They made me want you. And then they temporarily wiped you from my memory. They sent me out on a mission without an extraction. I thought I was free. And then I caught your scent again. And I knew it was too good to be true.”

“So they were using me as bait to get you?” you said slowly in realisation. 

“I think so.”

“But why?”

“I tend to resist when they try to recapture me.”

“So what does that mean for us? What happens now?” you asked, shifting away from the warmth of James’ chest to look him in the eye. The panic was apparent in your tone. 

James leaned in closer to you and took your hand. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know. But I care about you. I’ll protect you no matter what.”

“And what about you?” you asked.

“I can take care of them.”

“How?”

James looked towards the pile of tactical gear, guiding your gaze towards it too. 

Under his clothes lay the weapons arsenal he always carried with him on missions. You hadn’t noticed the knives or the guns or the… grenades, peeking out from the sea of black garments. The panic inside you escalated, trying to comprehend just who you had mated with.

You turned your attention back to James. 

“I can explain,” he said, quickly throwing his hands up again.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck? Who carries this shit with them?” you spat, jumping to your feet.

“I can explain,” he said, standing up and grabbing your shoulders. His eyes were wide, pleading with you more than his words did. “I’m an assassin. But that… that isn’t me. I don’t have a choice in any of this, but I can get out. I’m going to walk away. I’m going to take care of you.”

And that was when things went from bad to worse. The shuffle of multiple sets of boots in the stairwell silenced your argument. A boom at your door sent you both into each other’s arms. 

“Fuck,” he cursed. Then he turned his attention to you. “You need to trust me, ok?”

You looked up at him fearfully. He was waiting for your response. All you could do was nod. 

“You need to hide,” he told you, shaking your shoulders firmly, trying to keep his tone as level as possible. 

Another booming knock at the door. 

You tried to reason with him. “But they’ll follow my sc-“

“-I’ll deal with them,” he said, cutting you off.

The pair of you hurriedly put on clothes for the first time in the last six days. Then you dived inside your wardrobe, watching through the wooden slats in the door as James loaded up his gun and calmly walked out of your bedroom, towards the door of your apartment. He stood there like an animal stalking its prey, waiting for whoever was behind the door to come in. All the while, your stomach tied itself in knots. You knew if James couldn’t overpower the people coming for him, they’d turn their attention towards you. After all, the smell of fear was on you and anyone could smell it a mile off. 

The door burst open and five men, all betas, dressed in black, flocked inside. James was, graceful, almost feline as he took each of them out. Quickly, systematically. The blood pooled at his feet from the wounds he inflicted on the agents. The action was underwhelming to begin with. 

James exited the the apartment, into the hallway, presumably to look for other agents. 

Twenty minutes passed. Then an hour. Then two.

James hadn’t come back but you were too paralysed by fear to move from your spot in the wardrobe. Soon enough, drained by the events of the last few days, you fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were back at the facility. Strapped to gurney, you were unable to avoid the excruciating glare from the lights in the ceiling. In the periphery of your vision was the doctor from before. And James was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t even smell his scent in the air.


	4. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will your reunion be a happy one?

Unbeknownst to you, ‘Project: Lure’ was entering its final phase. It had almost nothing to do with James, and everything to do with you. After all, you were leverage. A pawn to keep him compliant. Even better if your mating had been successful; he would do anything to protect his mate and his young, and when your young were old enough, Hydra would take them too, moulding them into the next generation of assassins.

* * *

 

You lost track of how long you were in the facility for.

No matter how much you sobbed and begged, they refused to acknowledge your questions about James. Soon enough, you learned not to ask.

Of course they fed you, supplied you with clothes and allowed you to bathe. Doctors bustled in and out of your room to examine you on a daily basis until they could confirm that James had, indeed, bred you. 

Then their level of care increased, in tandem with your anxiety levels. They moved you to a more comfortable area with three other pregnant omegas in the exact same position as you. You recognised them from the drug trial. You each had your own room in this new space, but shared a kitchen and bathroom. It was unnerving at first, but you all learned to share the space. Your survival depended on it.

To combat the stress you experienced at being separated from James, the doctors came in at varying intervals to administer your medication. You weren’t sure exactly what they were giving you, but it eased your nerves and made you comfortable and docile. You had no hope of leaving the facility. No hope that James was coming back for you, or even if he was alive. So you went along with it, determined to do right by your growing litter.

Then one evening, you caught his scent. 

* * *

 

In the bowels of the facility, James waited out the days in a block of reinforced cells inhabited by estranged alphas. Reinforced to prevent either of you finding the other by scent. And reinforced to prevent James from escaping. They monitored everything from the inmates' stress levels to their sleeping patterns and efficiently staffed the entrance to the cell block accordingly. James had become wise to their shift patterns. He knew when the doctors usually came to assess him. He lay in wait, plotting his escape. Wondering how he would find you again. He was completely unsure if you were dead or alive. Were you pregnant? Scared? Did you still want him around after what he dragged you into? He tortured himself endlessly.

His worry was only quelled when Alexander Pierce arrived in his cell, two of his henchmen in tow. 

Of course, James found little reason to care that he was in the presence of the leader of Hydra. Deeply entrenched in his own personal hell, he offered Pierce nothing more than a look of derision, before returning his gaze to the ceiling as he lay, on his back, on the rickety old bed. 

Piece cleared his throat.

James gave him nothing.

“I’ve come with news about your mate, soldier.”

James raised an eyebrow, not wanting to get his hopes up. Hydra always played these sadistic tricks on their operatives to keep them submissive. He knew better.

“She is alive and pregnant. I’ve come to make a bargain.”

Pierce had James’ attention now.

James stood up, eye to eye with Pierce. 

“I’m listening,” James said quietly.

The two other agents clutched their weapons tighter. 

Pierce raised his hand signalling them to back down. He turned his attention back to James. “As long as you remain loyal to Hydra, I’m willing to spare your mate and children. Maybe, given time, I may even let you be together, as a family. As long as you’re loyal.”

“What happens if I’m not?” James asked through gritted teeth.

Pierce stood up straighter, his voice dripping with a loathsome smugness: “Then you’ll have to dispose of your family yourself.”

James exhaled. 

“I’ll take your silence as a good thing. Excellent,” Pierce concluded. 

Pierce turned on his heel and walked towards the door with the two agents following him. 

The meeting had only strengthened James’ resolve to find you and get you to safety, but first, he needed to play the long game. He needed to prove to Hydra that they could trust him. He dutifully accepted the next mission they dealt him. And the next. Each time he caught your scent for just a fleeting moment. Uneasy, but not in any apparent danger. It reassured him.

When the third mission came around, James had formed his plan, having grown accustomed to the procedures in the facility. 

It was a standard sanction and extraction for an unknown resource that the facility had ordered. He executed it perfectly, returning to the facility under the cover of darkness with his payload intact. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. His energy was reserved for what came next.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to be left alone under the supervision of just one doctor after a mission and this particular evening was no different. They would patch up his wounds and then sedate him, ready to be stripped of all his weapons and transported back to his cell in the basement, strapped to a gurney, by a pair of porters.

The facility was quiet when James arrived. It always was during night hours. The receptionist was on duty, along with two porters and twelve agents to cover the entire cohort the building housed. He handed over his payload to his designated agent and made his way to the medical area. The halls were always eerie at this time of night; silent save for the drone of the generators powering the place and the incessant beeping of heart monitors coming from the wards. James wasn’t sure what was housed in them. Truthfully, he didn’t want to know. They made him, after all, and that was bad enough.

He waited in his usual bed bay for the doctor to arrive. The curtain was drawn around it. A loaded gun, complete with a silencer, was tucked away under his folded arm. The linoleum floor absorbed the telltale clacking of a pair of heels, but James still focused on the sound as it approached. It was a woman - an alpha - which was rare for a Hydra doctor. They usually only employed betas. They were more agreeable and inoffensive in nature. Then he saw her silhouette on the other side of the curtain. 

A tall, red haired woman snatched open the opaque green fabric and stepped inside the bay. James still held his arms around his body, tightly folded with the gun firmly in his grasp, ready to murder her. 

“Sergeant Barnes,” she said coldly. 

“Doc,” James nodded. 

“You know the drill,” she said, turning her back to arrange the drugs on the metal tray that stood beside the gurney. “Lie down and count back from-“

James shot the woman square in the head as she turned to face him. The velocity forced her violently backwards into the medicine cabinet lining one side of the bay. Her blood only added to the crimson dot work already on his uniform. He knew he didn’t have long before the porters came for him. 

He also knew what would happen if his plan wasn't executed to the letter.

Each agent employed by the facility was a beta. Their scents were underwhelming, especially when James had a difficult time focusing on anything but you. One by one, he found them in various recesses of the building and one by one, he stealthily executed them. In fact, James slaughtered any sign of life that got in his way. Even the pretty, dark haired receptionist who he really had no qualms with. The whole system in place that night had to go in order to ensure your freedom. Including the security cameras in the hallways.

He saved the three agents on patrol in the basement ’til last. 

The block of cells stood in an ‘L’ shape, with James’ empty cell facing the lift shaft down to the block. It was always guarded by one agent, while the other two agents patrolled the other three cells around the corner. 

Down to just two bullets, James drew a hunting knife from his uniform and waited for the doors to the lift to slide open. As expected, the agent was waiting outside the empty cell, proud and stoic. James was quick to slit his throat. Despite being one of the world’s deadliest assassins, James never enjoyed taking a life. But seeing this man bleed out at his feet, struggling for his final breaths; it gave him an unparalleled thrill. His name was Brock Rumlow, and James hated him the most. He was the cruelest of the trio on guard. 

Of course, the commotion had caught the attention of the other two agents on guard. One rounded the corner, but James made swift work of him, with a gaping hole between his eyes. High on the adrenaline of finally murdering Rumlow, James was spurred on to enjoy his final murder of the night. There was something so satisfying about a knife flaying open flesh. James ran for the corner of the cell block and pounced on the final agent before he could draw his gun. A rookie error that earned him a knife in his eye socket. The very same knife drew a deep, scarlet line across his neck. 

When each of the agents had successfully been eliminated, James freed Hydra’s other, most notorious assassins. Three other alphas just like him, who had never chosen this life for themselves, who had been separated from their new mates. An unparalleled force with no one there to stop them.

* * *

 

You were fast asleep in your nest of blankets when you felt the mattress dip next to you. Nuzzling into the hand that smoothed the hair away from your face, you assumed this was just one of the nightmares that consistently haunted you. Until you took a deep breath. James. 

Your eyes shot open to find his hulking frame squeezed onto the single bed next to you. He was covered in blood and shaking from the adrenaline rush of the killing spree he had just embarked on, but that didn’t matter. None of that mattered. He smiled down at you sweetly. You were completely overcome.

“James,” you began.

He pressed his finger to your lips, “shh, it’s going to be ok, my little omega. I told you I’d protect you, didn’t I?” His hand instinctively moved to your belly. Concern cut through his voice. Only now could you sense that something was wrong. “How are the pups?”

“Good, I think. The doctors don’t tell me anything,” you whispered. 

“They have a habit of doing that,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead quickly. “We need to get going. Are you strong enough to get out of here?”

“What’s going on, James?” you asked.

He sat up. You could see the fear in his eyes, reminding you of the day you became separated. “If they find out what I’ve done, they’ll kill all of us. We need to go.”

There were no more questions. You trusted James. You left, along with the other pairs, before Hydra caught wind of what had happened.

* * *

 

You and James made your way to Europe, settling in a small coastal village in Italy under brand new identities. It was far enough removed that you were both certain that Hydra would never find you. Despite this, James remained vigilant, rarely sleeping and constantly watching the patch of land surrounding your property. This behaviour never left him.

Seven months later, your children arrived. Four of them. All girls. All just as stubborn, loyal and headstrong as James was; with the same dark brown manes and sad blue eyes. All scrappy little omegas, who were uncharacteristically independent, but also kind and nurturing beyond belief. 

Suddenly all of the pain and turmoil you had experienced at the hands of Hydra didn’t seem so awful anymore thanks to your girls and your mate.

James Buchanan Barnes truly was a wonderful father, safe in the knowledge that he had left his old life behind for good. He stayed at home while you worked, providing an income for the family (it was James' idea to keep your daughters safe in case Hydra caught up with you both). It wasn’t uncommon for you to return home to find James’ hair in braids or doodles covering his left arm (he had even made the decision to replace his signature red star with a unicorn after the most stubborn of your pups, Hailley, decided those were her favourite animals). As he regained his memories and filled countless notebooks with his wartime escapades, your daughters delighted in hearing those stories before bed. Time and time again, it led to tears and nightmares, but they never learned. And James took it all in his stride.

Even as he realised how much he had left behind, this was the future James Buchanan Barnes had always dreamed of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a little something I'm working on for reaching 2,000 followers over on tumblr. It's my first omegaverse fic, and it's set to be kind of dark. Any feedback you can offer is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!


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